


come and save my day, you're my superstar

by falsealarm



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsealarm/pseuds/falsealarm
Summary: It is not the duty of the captain of the king's guard to chaperone dates and yet Ava is on horseback in the middle of a beautiful sunny day escorting [Princess Zari and Prince Nathaniel] to a pre-scouted patch of countryside.[a Zari 2.0/Ava fantasy au for Zava Weekend 2021]
Relationships: Ava Sharpe/Zari Tomaz | Zari Tarazi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	come and save my day, you're my superstar

**Author's Note:**

> Hey did y'all know that writing can be fun?? I absolutely forgot so let's hope this is the start of me actually writing (something other than dnd adventures) regularly this year. Title from MARINA's "Superstar".

“Just because you like me best doesn’t mean I’m the one that should accompany you on your date.” Ava leans against the door frame to Zari’s bedchamber, watching her rush about with a handmaiden on her tail.

“Gross, it’s an outing.” Zari whirs between her wardrobe and the bed, placing a third dress down. She pauses and eyes the row of them. Ava doesn’t understand why a wardrobe change is necessary, but she isn’t surprised it’s happening. “And we’re going into the countryside where there are bandits and beasts and _bugs_.”

Ava lets out a soft laugh at Zari’s visceral distaste in the last word. A laugh she instantly regrets as Zari’s gaze shoots across the room to pierce her chest like an icy sword. Her recovery is as smooth as she can manage, shoulders back, spine straight but she still feels wounded. “Princess, Mithra will be with you. Shouldn’t a _dragon_ be more fit for protection than a woman with a sword?”

This time it’s disbelief that punches into Ava’s chest, like she’s clearly said something unbelievably stupid. “The Prince can’t know I have a dragon, Ava.” She pauses again, turning back to look at the dresses and quickly picks the one in the middle. It’s one of Ava’s favorites, simple but with a flattering silhouette in a blue that, more than once, Zari has said matches Ava’s eyes. Zari continues, “At least not yet. And he’s no good at reading people, especially men.”

Ava laughs again, a little louder this time. “And am I any different in that regard?”

“Just because you don’t _date_ men doesn’t mean you hate all of them, surely?” Zari’s handmaiden takes the dress behind a screen that Zari keeps towards the back of the room, a dark fragrant wood elaborately carved with peonies and backed with dark pink silk.

Ava stays silent as she turns to shut the door behind herself.

When she turns back around, Zari’s just a floating head above the screen and Ava hears the rustling of dress layers being untucked and untied. Ava has often wondered if Zari is as frivolous with her wardrobe changes in the company of others as she is with Ava. This isn’t the first time that Zari’s held a conversation with her while getting changed—honestly, at this point she supposes the princess might be an exhibitionist.

Zari combs over Ava’s features with a practiced eye and for a moment Ava feels caught—though caught in what she’s not entirely sure—but after a beat it seems more like Zari’s choosing her next words carefully. When she seems to have settled on a choice, Ava watches her face shift into concern: brows knitted, head cocked. In an instant, Ava becomes fully aware that she will be swayed before the words are even spoken. “Well, did you see his showy entrance? Aren’t you curious as to what type of man would arrive _alone_ to what is clearly a vital meeting for the future of his kingdom?”

The hook is in. His introduction preached sincerity and blind trust which might have been a breath of fresh air to the king and queen after the string of showy, self-entitled princes that have come before him but there’s a sheen to his charisma that Ava does find suspicious.

As she continues, Zari lowers her voice and Ava takes a step forward unconsciously. “You know he could be some sort of psychopath. I’ve heard they’re quite charismatic.”

Ava stays silent but closes her eyes, breathes out slowly. Swayed, defeated, with Zari it’s the same thing. “What time were you leaving?”

“Now!” Zari exclaims as she pops out from behind the screen. She’s linking forearms with Ava and turning her towards the door before Ava can even open her eyes.

+++

It is not the duty of the captain of the king's guard to chaperone dates and yet Ava is on horseback in the middle of a beautiful sunny day escorting the pair to a pre-scouted patch of countryside. Prince Behrad is accompanying as well—one chaperone for safety and another to make sure the prince minds his manners—but Ava and Behrad have never exactly gotten on well so she still feels like the odd one out.

Ava can’t tell what the princess and prince are talking about but it seems friendly enough. At the very least, Zari hasn’t made any scathing retorts though it’s a bit hard to gauge her reaction at all when most of what Ava’s hearing seems to be Prince Behrad’s laughter.

The ride along the wood’s edge is steady and slow. There are guards posted in the wood itself so Ava isn’t entirely concerned about the noises she hears within, instead she focuses on the expanse of grassland to her right. There was a storm just two days ago and the grass is vibrant with the health of fresh rain but with the road still muddy she knows there will be some fuss about finding a clean spot to settle.

Behrad is the one that calls out for them to stop. He’s too early though and when Ava turns around to tell him as much he’s already off his horse and walking it to the fence line to tie the reins in place.

“Prince Behrad, we’re further to go still.”

He makes a show of breathing in deeply and raises his arms to the sky. “We should walk the rest of the way, it’s beautiful out!”

“I agree with the prince!” Prince Nathaniel offers quickly, hopping off his own horse and tying it next to Behrad’s. Behrad grabs the satchel of food from his saddle and Nathaniel the blanket before they begin to help each other over the fence. There’s a familiarity in their movements that Ava takes a second to clock, she doesn’t think the boys have met each other before but she could be mistaken.

Behind her, Ava hears Mithra and Zari huff in unison. Today, Mithra is a beautiful chestnut steed with a glorious black mane and tail, reminiscent of Zari’s own dark tresses. “Do we have to?” Zari asks quietly, brow furrowed this time with _real_ concern.

“Well,” Ava starts, surprised at the question. She looks to the boys again, finds them already several yards into the field, “the boys don’t seem to be waiting so it’s your choice, but I know how you feel about mud.”

Zari looks down at the pristine skirt of her dress and winces, then looks out to the field. “Well, you like walking, don’t you?”

It’s less of a question and more of an invitation which seems slightly unsettling. Ava narrows her eyes, “I do but you’re the one with the nice dress.”

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Zari says, demeanor shifting back into something lighter, more playful. “If we find any mud, you’ll just have to carry me over it.”

Ava wants to laugh, this feels like the appropriate place to, but just last week she’d had a quiet daydream eerily similar to that idea so instead she’s stunned to silence. Zari begins to dismount Mithra, immediately gathering the hem of her dress in hand before it can hit the ground. She extends her arm for Ava to take and the movement jerks Ava back to reality, dismounting her own horse and tying the reins before taking Zari’s arm.

The fence has no break for them to move through, they’ll have to climb over. Zari uses Ava’s arm to push herself up to the fence, steadying herself until she can sit on the top and swing her legs over. Once she’s facing away, she stops. Ava takes another moment to understand what she’s waiting for then launches herself over the fence with one solid push, legs swinging sideways to clear the wood. When she lands on the other side she catches a fleeting look on Zari’s face. Surprise perhaps, the motion was swifter than Ava was planning. Without word though, Zari grasps her arm and steadies herself once more until she’s down on somewhat solid ground.

Truthfully, if Ava were in her armor that maneuver would likely have ended in a face full of grass. Before they’d left Zari had insisted a change of dress because apparently “armor would make the outing seem too formal”. So instead, Ava’s wearing some of her nicest clothing on a date that isn’t even her own.

“This color really does look nice on you,” Zari says from beside her.

“Well, you are the one who gave it to me, of course you’d like it.” Truthfully, Ava herself does like the tunic. Zari called the color peacock green but since Ava’s never seen a peacock she’s not sure if it’s entirely accurate. It is one of the softest things she’s ever worn though and probably costs as much as a racing horse so the gift had felt generous in a way that made Ava deeply uncomfortable for several weeks.

“If we’re going to spend time together, I’d like you to look nice.”

Ava feels quietly offended. The condition of her daily armor is a point of pride: countless hours spent shining and buffing and pulling dents out of the metal as they appear. “You don’t like my armor?”

“Your armor does make you look very dashing,” Zari offers, eyes up to Ava just in time to see Ava swallow thickly. “But I like you a little softer, you’re more approachable without the air of battle hanging about.”

“And yet you still let me keep my sword?” Ava gestures, hand already resting on the pommel as they walk. It’s a hefty sword but it’s beautifully balanced, a gift from the king when Ava was promoted to her position. Another expensive gift that had made Ava uncomfortable.

“Well, you still need to protect me, don’t you?” Before Ava can answer Zari stills, shying back into Ava’s side as if she’s been stung. “And _here_ is your first challenge,” she declares.

Ahead of them is exactly what Ava expected: a long trench of mud. It isn’t particularly wet or even that wide but it’s long enough that they won’t be able to walk around and Zari is not the kind of woman to _jump_ if she doesn’t have to. Ava takes a moment to think: surely there’s some way to get them across without picking Zari up but when she feels a hand on her arm she realizes she’s already too late.

Zari slides a hand over the curve of Ava’s shoulder, turning to face her with the full expectation that she’ll be lifted. “Please, be careful with the dress.”

There are no correct places to put one’s hands when picking up a beautiful woman with whom one is not involved. There are places that seem like they should be helpful, bracing even, but once hands are there the body beneath is warm and soft and inviting and the act chivalry suddenly feels like a lie. Once Zari is in Ava’s arms, she tucks her head in close and warm breath ghosts against Ava’s cheek and neck. Unfortunately for Ava, Zari’s hands seem to have no trouble finding a place to sit: both of them hook together against the nape of Ava’s neck, fingers in the loose strands of hair from Ava’s braid.

The jump is easy for Ava, even with Zari in her arms, but Ava finds her heart racing like a hummingbird as they land on the other side. Zari makes no move to be released and where mere seconds earlier Ava had wanted nothing more than to empty her hands, she now finds herself unable to move.

Zari says her name in a whisper, close enough to Ava’s ear that the heat against it feels wet and Ava, despite being stuck in place, feels every nerve ending in her body alight. This daydream had an ending that Ava had completely forgotten about until just this moment. Most of the dreams are interrupted before their completion but this one had happened on a rainy day and rainy castle days are usually lazy unless the king has visitors.

Ava can’t look down at Zari. That’s how the ending started: Ava looks down, Zari looks up and—

“Took you long enough!” A voice shouts ahead of them.

Ava and Zari both snap to at the same time, Zari adjusting in just the right way to initiate Ava lowering her down. The boys are over the curve of the hill ahead of them, Behrad’s head popping up as he jumps to see them.

Unlike Ava, Zari seems not to have internalized the shout as a reprimand, so she reaches again for Ava’s arm to escort her to the perfectly set feast unfazed. Ava, on the other hand, can still feel Zari’s fingers tickling the back of her neck.

+++

It was Behrad that had insisted on packing the meal and even if his tastes do lean slightly sugary, Ava is nonetheless impressed with the choices before her. Zari had promised her a meal but she had imagined a bit of bread and cheese, perhaps some wine but instead Behrad fills an entire plate for her. She takes the proffered plate without hesitation but waits until Behrad has his own before tasting. The food is exquisite, absolutely fit for a royal picnic and sharing in the decadence feels at once a treat and a betrayal. There are rules about dining with royals but most of them apply to dinners in great halls, not a woolen blanket in a field that Ava’s quite sure is used to graze sheep.

But the royals don’t seem appalled at her presence, instead she is encouraged to eat and drink more and even to give her opinions during discussion. Admittedly, it is hard to give an opinion on literature she hasn’t read or exotic cities she hasn’t visited but she does give Prince Nathaniel her thoughts on guard rotation and despite Zari’s barely-covered yawn, the prince seems genuinely interested.

As the afternoon ticks by, Ava recognizes something quite curious: Zari and Nathaniel don’t seem to be interacting as much as Ava expected. It is a _date_ after all, Nathaniel is in the kingdom with the explicit intention to start courting Zari and yet most of his attention has been on Behrad.

What’s more curious still is that Zari doesn’t seem upset by the lack as far as Ava can tell. In fact, Zari herself has been spending most of her time trying to engage Ava in conversation though it isn’t an entirely successful venture. Ava has never been a particularly good conversationalist, but she is a good listener and fortunately for the both of them Zari has always been very fond of her own voice.

After the food and wine are drunk, the boys offer to get the horses as apology for what Zari playfully named her “muddy misadventure”. Ava watches them disappear over the hill before she leans over to Zari, her voice low, “do they know each other?”

“Who?” Zari asks to the open air. She’s lying on the blanket now that the boys are gone, looking up at the slowly dimming sky.

“Prince Nathaniel and your brother.” The angle of Zari’s jaw shifts noticeably and Ava tries her best not to get distracted by the smooth line of it.

“Ava, are you serious?” Zari sits up on her elbows and narrows her eyes at Ava curiously.

“They seem quite friendly, perhaps they’ve met at a ball somewhere before.”

“Captain,” Zari starts, shaking her head, “it truly is surprising how oblivious you are sometimes.”

The use of her title sets Ava’s shoulders straight in preparation, as if Zari’s about to volley something unexpected at her. “What?”

“You know those letters that Behrad writes? The really long ones that he sends by special messenger?”

Ava nods, “Yes.”

“He sends them to Nate.” Zari gives her a look, the kind that makes Ava realize that if she isn’t careful, she’s going to miss something.

“Oh,” Ava pauses, eyes ducking to the woolen blanket. She narrows in on the fuzzing threads of a hole near Zari’s knee and absent-mindedly admires the graceful line of her thigh above it and, “ _oh_.”

“It’s really quite sweet that you thought Nate and I were going on a date, if a little presumptive.” Zari sits up and picks a grape from the last remnants of their meal, pops it into her mouth.

“Do your parents know this wasn’t a date?” The idea of being implicit in keeping a secret like this from the king and queen starts to turn Ava’s stomach. So much of her reputation is built on trust and strong communication skills. No secrets, no misgivings.

Zari shakes her head, “Not yet, Behrad wanted to be sure they liked him first. And that I liked him, so I think pretenses will be over by tomorrow.”

The stone in Ava’s stomach lightens, it’s a play more than it is a lie. Chaperones are necessary when dealing with strange men, especially if they want to spend time with a princess. “So, I did actually have to come then, for pretenses.”

“Oh, no you didn’t actually.” Zari admits, reaching out to readjust the rumpled fabric of her dress. “Behrad would have been enough but I wanted to get you out of the castle. It’s so stuffy there and you need the fresh air.”

Ava’s fist clenches involuntarily at her side. From the very start Zari has flagrantly disregarded the weight of Ava’s position. Ava’s let the informality of their relationship slide thus far—it always pays to be on a royal’s good side especially if they’re meant to put their trust in you—but this feels different. “You can’t just steal me away when you please, princess. I have a job to do, your father expects me to be available.”

“Would you please call me Zari?”

Ava stiffens, “What?”

Zari’s posture has softened and suddenly Ava’s anger feels out of place. “My name, would you use it? I’d like to hear you say it.”

“It’s not my place to refer to you so informally.”

Zari quirks an eyebrow, tilts her head. “You can’t say my name but you can share a room with me while I undress?”

Ava feels herself blushing, tries to tamp it down. “That’s… I don’t do that on purpose.”

“But you don’t leave.”

“Because it would be rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.”

Zari’s smile is a bit self-satisfied, proud that she’s both diffused Ava’s anger and flustered her. She leans a little closer as she continues, smooths a hand over the delicate embroidery at the hem of her dress. “I picked this dress because I know you like it. I thought you’d be a little more open to all this if I was wearing something you liked.”

“Open to what?” Ava feels uncomfortably exposed out in this open field with only the setting sun at her back. Somehow, Zari is always one step ahead of her and something about the way she’s choosing her words suggests an ambush—

“Would you write me letters? Like Behrad writes to Nate.”

—And it is.

Ava looks down at the blanket again, suddenly afraid to meet a challenge head on for the first time in her life. None of her daydreams have ever started like this. This is upfront in a way that Ava never thought would be possible and yet here they are alone with the crickets and the setting sun and a very loaded question.

A question to which Zari expects an answer, Ava can’t feign a castle emergency and slink off into dark shadows this time. She says the first thing that comes to mind, afraid that if she waits too long she won’t be able to say anything. “I’m not skilled with words,” Ava admits, “I don’t think I could.”

“But you would?”

There’s hope in Zari’s eyes and Ava finds a sliver of her own confidence in them too. “If that’s something you wanted.”

“You’re usually very good at knowing what I want. What do you think?” Another question that feels like an invitation, but this isn’t something Ava can guess at or act upon herself. Zari is a princess and Ava is essentially glorified castle staff, if Zari wants something, she’ll have to ask for it herself.

“At this point, I think I’d like you to say it out loud.”

Zari hesitates, surprised that for once Ava hasn’t taken the bait. There’s a quiet moment of calculation before she continues: “I heard you say once that you learn by example, let’s see if this answers anything for you.”

Ava watches the space between them disappear but is incapable of believing its loss. She breathes in as Zari places a hand on her knee and another on her shoulder; breathes out as Zari leans up and levels her with dark, questioning eyes.

Ava feels like an absolute dunce.

First kisses aren’t actually meant to be magical; Ava is a pragmatist. A first kiss can be off-center and too fast or on-center and too dry, a first kiss is a first try that’s meant to get better with practice. But maybe there’s something to fairy tales after all because Ava’s first kiss with a princess makes her feel like she’s flying. Kissing Zari feels like the triumph of her first bullseye and tastes like spring honeysuckle. Kissing Zari feels like the slam of a battering ram against her chest and the warmth of a belly full of soup after a cold winter’s day.

Above it all, there’s a lightness to it that leaves Ava humming as Zari pulls back. Her hand has found Zari’s at her knee and the sweat against Ava’s palm feels like a secret, Zari was just as nervous as she was.

“Can we stay for the sunset?” Zari asks, eyes squarely locked on Ava’s mouth.

Ava smiles, lopsided and kiss-drunk, “We can stay as long as you’d like but I don’t think your brother knows how to get home. We might have to go find him.”

“He’s resourceful and I know you’ve got men in the woods.” Zari answers, the hand at Ava’s shoulder moving up to tickle at the back of Ava’s neck again. “You only need to worry about me and I’m fine right where I am.”

Behrad and Nate together make at least one competent young man and Zari’s right, if they get lost her men can escort them home. Ava’s priority has always been Zari so she squeezes Zari’s hand and leans in to kiss her again, “then a sunset you shall have, Zari.”


End file.
